When the World Comes Down
by monroeslittle
Summary: season two "behind the scenes" of Finn and Rachel.
1. Chapter 1: Auditions

a/n: lolalolafan and CSM both suggested I write something that covered the missing Finchel moments of season two. Here goes! There will be ten chapters, one for each of the ten episodes. I hope to post them all before the second season resumes. The title comes from "Mona Lisa" by the All-American Rejects.

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**:: 2.01 - Auditions ::**

i.

"You look gorgeous, peaches," her daddy says.

"Thank you!" she says, stepping out of the car and ignoring the stares of her classmates. She knows it isn't exceptionally cool to have her fathers drive her to her first day of junior year, but they always like to drop her off on her first day, and she won't deny them that. She smoothes out her new pink blouse as her dad pulls out the camera to take yet another picture, and she smiles widely for the photo.

"Do you have your lunch?" Dad asks.

She holds up her pink, bedazzled lunch box.

"I put an extra treat in it for you," Daddy says, winking as he takes it from her and tucks it into her backpack. "Have a good day, sweet pea." He kisses the top of her head. "It is, after all, your second to last first day of school!" Tears pool in his eyes.

"Oh, you're so dramatic, Daddy!" she exclaims, kissing his cheek.

Tapping his cheek, Dad demands a kiss, too. "Are you sure you don't want us to pick you up?" he asks. "I can take off work early. We can spend the afternoon together!"

"No," Rachel says, "Finn already volunteered to take me home. You know that!"

Daddy makes a face and Rachel giggles, shaking her head at him. She knows he loves Finn, even if he likes to moan that Finn has stolen his baby girl away. "I'll see you both at dinner!" She waves happily as they climb back into the car and drive away.

"Nice skirt, Berry," some Cheerio sneers, "you only look like a _total_ freak."

Rachel straightens. "Your utter lack of creativity is more insulting than your intended slight," she replies, and she turns towards the school before the dimwit can come up with a proper response. She doesn't need to put up with girls like that. Besides, her boyfriend is waiting.

She bites back a smile at the thought.

Her boyfriend is waiting. And not just any boyfriend — _Finn Hudson_ is waiting. Even after a summer by his side, she still can't fully fathom the idea that she, Rachel Berry, has won the star quarterback and Glee stud. Of course, they're a perfect match, but so many people have tried to stand in their way in the last year that it seems like a dream to be with him now.

She spies him by his locker and starts to head towards him only to pause. He's talking with a ring of jocks. Her confidence wavers. She waits for him to catch her eye, for him to nod that she should join them. She's always been somewhat intimidated by these people he likes to claim are his friends. It's silly, of course, as Rachel Berry has nothing to fear from such Neanderthals, but. . . . .

For a moment, her mind flitters to the terrifying possibility that maybe now that school has started, all his doubts and insecurities will rise up and he won't want anything to do with her and —

He sees her. He smiles. And she beams. She skips over to him and leans up to kiss his cheek. "Hey," he murmurs. He looks at the other football players. "You guys remember Rachel, right? My girlfriend."

They all murmur something or other, but Rachel doesn't really care. She slips her hand into Finn's and lets the words _my girlfriend_ wash over her. This is by far the best first day of school she's ever had. "Hey girl!" Mercedes calls as she walks by.

"Hello Mercedes!" Rachel replies, waving enthusiastically. She glances around. She wants to spot her other friends, too. She sees Artie and waves happily, he nods a little sadly. Her attention, however, is quickly drawn back to Finn, who's checking his hair now that his friends have left. She knows he doesn't much like the haircut his mother gave him last weekend, although she thinks it makes him look mature.

"Leave it be," she tells him. "You look very handsome. I knew this polo would look good with my new blouse. And you thought it would be silly for us to coordinate our outfits!" She smoothes out his shirt. "Don't I look nice?"

"Yeah," Finn says. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "You look really pretty."

She bites back a blush and leans up to kiss him again. He looks pretty pleased with himself. "Here," she says, "you missed a button. It's important to be well-groomed at all times, Finn. You never know when the camera will find you." She starts to button his polo, and as if to prove her point, the camera _does_ appear, momentarily taking her aback. It's Jacob Ben Israel, of course, but she doesn't care — it doesn't matter who's behind the camera, only who's in front.

And she can't afford to let the paparazzi take her by surprise. "We've been dating all summer," she tells the camera proudly, smiling her most winning smile.

Of course, Jacob asks a string of rude questions, and Finn is _not_ very helpful.

When Jacob finally leaves, Rachel looks up at her boyfriend. "I — I don't think you're annoying!" he quickly says. "And I like that you're controlling." He smiles nervously, and she shakes her head at him, more amused than anything else. He has, after all, proudly called her his girlfriend to his friends and declared himself her boyfriend to the camera. What more can she ask for?

"Walk me to class?"

"Sure," he says, smiling in relief and taking her hand once more.

Yes, this is by far her best first day of classes ever.

ii.

Okay, so _Empire State of Mind_ is totally awesome.

He still can't believe the whole school doesn't sign up for Glee after that. They totally rock it, and it sucks that only, like, that one kid thinks it's cool. Of course, Finn's totally gonna find that one kid and talk to him, but there should have been at least, like, _five_ kids who really liked it or something.

"It just doesn't make sense!" Rachel exclaims.

"It makes plenty of sense," Tina replies dejectedly. "Glee club will always be the loser club."

"But high school is a hierarchy!" Rachel goes on. "If the top of the hierarchy, if boys as attractive, talented, and popular as Finn and Puck and Mike all join Glee, it should make other popular kids want to join, too!"

"She's right, you know," Quinn says. "It should work like that."

"But it doesn't," Santana snaps, "especially not when the club's still full of mega losers." She looks pointedly at Rachel, who pretends not to see. Finn takes her hand, though, just so she knows that _he _doesn't think she's a mega loser.

"Okay, okay, enough," Mr. Schue says. "You all did your best, and who knows — maybe your performance _will_ bring in a few interested members. I was definitely impressed." He smiles proudly at all of them, but it doesn't really make Finn feel any better.

He thinks of the posters he made to put up everywhere. Those are _sure_ to get some people, right? Rachel even helped him make them, and she's really good at crafts and stuff like that. "Are you still upset, too?" Rachel asks him.

"Yeah, a little," Finn says, shrugging. Mr. Schue dismissed Glee, and most everyone has left. He stands and starts to walk out with Rachel, her hand once more in his.

"Well, I for one plan to recruit a few members even if I have to do all the work myself," she says. "And, don't worry, even if we don't find any more members, the club is still plenty strong." She smiles up at him, and he wonders how she can be so — you know —

"Hey, Rach, what's that word for, like, being really happy and thinking positive and stuff?"

"Optimistic?"

"Yeah," he says, smiling. "You're really optimistic."

"Thank you!" She leans up and kisses him.

It totally rocks how often she leans up and kisses him. He really wants to, like, twirl her around and press her against a locker and make-out with her, but that totally wouldn't fly. And little kisses are cool, too, 'cause she smells so good and her chapstick is always berry-flavoured. Plus, as long as she's always giving him small kisses, everybody knows that she's his, which is totally a good thing.

'Cause, honestly, it makes him nervous to be back in school.

He and Rachel have never really dated while in school. Like, that messed up time around winter break last year doesn't really count, and they were still kinda getting their ground last spring after Regionals. Summer was cool, 'cause he could spend all his time lying around with Rachel and there was nobody there to judge him or her or _them_.

He taught her how to play basketball, and she was really bad, but she got really into it whenever they would play, and afterward she would make him cookies or these little cakes or pancakes with lots of chocolate chips as long as he agreed to watch some musical or something. They went to the movies sometimes, also. And they went to the lake a few times, too, and she wore this bikini that _totally_ made him crazy. He knows Puck, Mike, and Artie all thought it looked awesome, too, and Finn was kinda super proud that she was his girlfriend.

But he has nothing to fear from Puck, Mike, and Artie.

They might all complain sometimes that Rachel is annoying, but they all like her, and they all know that she and Finn are _supposed_ to be together. Most people at school aren't like that. Most people at school judge Rachel, and they treat her bad, and they judge Finn for being with her. He hates that. Like, he knows that Rachel doesn't mind what people say about her, but _he_ minds.

What if she realises how much he cares what other people think? What if she wants him to be better than that and he just _can't_? It makes him nervous that people are gonna treat her bad and he won't be able to stop them. If he can just stay cool, then people are going to leave her alone, mostly, 'cause nobody'll _really_ want to mess with the quarterback's girlfriend, and —

"Finn?"

He glances down at Rachel, who's gazing up at him expectantly. He really needs to pay more attention. "Sorry," he says sheepsihly. "What?"

She doesn't look annoyed, though. She's all kinds of awesome like that. "Lunch is almost over," she says. "Aren't you going to hang up those Glee posters we made?" She smiles softly at him.

"Yeah, right," he says. "Guys are totally gonna go for them!" He's actually kinda excited.

"They are very manly," she agrees, squeezing his arm. "And I'll hang up _my_ posters. It's important that we both continue to search for recruits, even if the rest of the club is disheartened. We are, after all, the co-captains."

"Definitely," he says. "You can count on me."

She beams, and, yeah, leans up to kiss him quickly. Some jerk turns the corner with a slushie, and Finn steps a little closer to Rachel. He glares at the dude, some stupid hockey player, and _dares_ him to try to slushie Finn or his girlfriend. The guy walks past. Finn smiles at Rachel. "I'll call you after football gets out," he tells her, and he watches her leave. He's not gonna disappoint her — not about this, _not about anything_.

He's not gonna let anyone mess with her.

iii.

"Rachel!" Tina calls. "Over here!"

Rachel beams and weaves her way through the crowded cafeteria to her friends.

She has a table full of friends. Artie smiles when he sees her, and Mercedes pauses in her argument with Kurt to greet her. Tina asks her how her morning was, and what she thinks of the new English teacher. Rachel answers her quickly, and Tina actually listens and nods along.

It's absolutely _amazing_.

She has friends who want to sit with her and talk to her and spend time with her. She pulls her lasagne from her lunch box, and Tina asks to try some. "Of course," Rachel says happily. "I made it myself!" Tina really likes it. Rachel can't hide her grin.

"We really need to get you a new lunch box," Kurt comments.

"Don't listen to him," Mercedes immediately cuts in. "He hates anything more fabulous than him." Rachel laughs along with Mike, as Kurt and Mercedes began to tease each other, and Rachel realises that feeling rising up in her is _belonging_. Last spring, and this summer, too, she's felt a solidarity with her fellow Glee club members. How could she not? Glee ties them all together. But now there's no talk of Glee, and she finds she's loath to bring it up.

She likes that she has something to share with her friends outside her voice. Of course, Glee is what brought them all together, is what brought all these people to realise how great a friend Rachel really can be, and she'll forever cherish Glee for that.

When Finn sits down beside her, she greets him with a grin. "Hello!"

He looks surprised at her enthusiasm. "Hey," he says. "How's your day?"

"Amazing!" she exclaims. "Do you want one of my cookies?"

His eyes light up, and she giggles. She leans up and kisses his cheek.

"Oh, good lord," Kurt exclaims, rolling his eyes dramatically as he pointedly looks away.

Tina, however, slips an arm around Mike's torso and shares a small smile with Rachel, as if she, too, knows exactly what it's like to be in a wonderful relationship with a wonderful boy. Rachel leans into Finn and soaks it all in. This is the perfect start to a perfect year. She can't wait for what comes next.

She wants to stay and revel in it for longer, but she has to go to the bathroom before lunch ends — she hates to miss class for any amount of time, even a quick trip to the bathroom. "I'll be right back," she tells her friends, and she walks, beaming, to the bathroom.

She finds Sunshine there — Sunshine, who's a smaller, prettier, more talented version of Rachel.

And Rachel sees it all go up in smoke.

(She can't let it.)

iv.

He doesn't know how to tell her.

He doesn't even know how to admit that it's real.

Sam doesn't show for auditions. Nobody shows up. Finn can't believe it. He's completely, totally failed. He's off the football team, and Glee doesn't have enough members, and those posters he made were completely stupid, and why did he ever think Artie could be in the team?

He tries to be a good leader and a good friend, and he just messes everything up.

He walks slowly out of the choir room with Rachel. "It could be worse," Rachel says, trying once more to be optimistic or whatever. It only makes him feel worse, though, 'cause she's gonna be so upset with him, he just knows it. How can she not be? He's upset with himself.

"Hey, loser!" somebody shouts.

Finn looks up, even as Rachel automatically turns to the side, her eyes pressed closed. Finn has his own reflexes, though, when he sees the slushie, and he hoists Rachel up and twirls her aside. The slushie hits the locker beside him. "What the hell, dude?" he yells, stepping murderously towards the guy. Rachel holds him back.

The fatass just laughs. "You're getting good at dodging those, _loser_," he says, and he and his cronies laugh as they stalk off. Finn kind of wants to chase after them and punch the shit out of them. Rachel won't let him.

"Calm down," Rachel says, stroking his arm. He looks down at her, and guilt seizes him. She looks so _happy_. "You actually saved me from a slushie," she says. But he shouldn't have had to help her dodge a slushie; nobody should have even tried to slushie her in the first place! Doesn't she get that? Doesn't she know she deserves so much better than this?

She tries to catch his gaze. He won't let her.

"Want a ride home?" he mutters.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly. "He didn't hit me, Finn. You saved me." He doesn't know what to say. He's gonna find that guy, and he _is_ gonna beat the shit out of him. "I don't need a ride, thank you," she finally says. I brought my car, remember?" She pauses. "And don't you have practice?"

He might as well tell her. It's not like he can avoid it. "Coach Bieste kicked me off." There. He said it. He still can't look at her, though, even as she waits for an explanation. "Artie wanted me to help him get on the team so that he could win back Tina and I thought it would totally be cool, but Bieste got really pissed and she kicked me off." He starts to say it all as fast as he can. "I tried to join the Cheerios —"

"You _what_?"

"— But everybody knows what a sucky dancer I am. It didn't work, and I'm definitely off the football team now." He finally looks at her nervously. What is she going to think? But her face is soft as she meets his gaze, and before he can say anything else, she hugs him. She isn't upset at all. He presses his face into his hair and wills himself not to cry.

"It'll be okay," she murmurs. "I promise. It'll all work out."

He lifts her off the ground and clutches her. She doesn't realise what it means for him not to be cool anymore. She doesn't realise that he can't defend her or anything. And he _wants_ to be cool. He wants to play football. He _loves_ football. But she still likes him, and that's something, isn't it? She's not pissed the way Quinn would be.

"Don't worry, Finn," she says soothingly, running a hand over his hair, her knees pressing slightly into his hips as he holds her. "It'll be okay."

v.

She takes a deep breath.

And she steps into the classroom.

All eyes turn to her. She wants to cringe, but she fights the urge. Kurt gazes at her coldly, like she's something unpleasant he stepped in, but that's nothing new. Mercedes has her bottom lip jutted out, attitude written all over her face, like she just can't _stand_ Rachel, but that's nothing new, either. Artie shoots her annoyed looks, even though he won't meet her gaze, and Tina has her arms crossed over her chest.

They all hate her.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says softly. She clears her throat and faces them bravely. "I am truly, completely, sincerely sorry. I know that I have jeopardised the future of the entire club and it was for entirely selfish reasons. I have never been so disappointed in myself —"

"Save it, hobbit," Santana says. "Nobody wants to hear your speech."

"Hey," Finn says, glaring at her. He catches Rachel's gaze and nods encouragingly.

Rachel takes strength in that. "I completely understand if you all refuse to forgive me. I don't think I could forgive myself if I were in your place. As an apology, however, I will not seek any of the solos for the next — the next _two_ weeks. I don't deserve them."

"We really could have used her, you know," Mercedes says sharply.

Rachel nods and focuses her gaze on the floor. She can't look at them. She doesn't want to cry in front of them all. "I'm sorry," she repeats softly, taking a slow breath.

"Whatever," Puck says. "It's cool with me. I don't care."

"You don't care about anything," Kurt snaps. There's a tense moment.

"Just promise not to do something like that again, okay?" Tina says.

Rachel looks at her and nods quickly, grateful. "I promise." She smiles tentatively.

Tina doesn't really return the gesture, but Rachel will take her olive branch nonetheless. It's something, at least. Mr. Schue finally stands and Rachel takes that as her cue to sit. She hurries to the empty seat beside Finn, and he takes her hand and squeezes it.

The lesson goes on, and Rachel keeps quiet to appease the others.

For the first time all week, however, she wants nothing more than for Glee practice to finish so that she can be alone. When it does, she hurries to the door. Finn follows after her. "Did you want to hang out?" he says. "Maybe we could —?"

"Later," she says quickly. "I need to relieve the overbearing stress of this day with a little yoga. You can come by later, okay?" She gives him a moment to nod, and she leaves without another backward glance.

vi.

He's not really sure when later is, but he figures yoga can't possibly take more than an hour, right?

He goes around to the back of the house, 'cause that's where she keeps the spare key. She showed it to him, hidden in the potted plant with the stone frog, a few weeks into the summer. He almost feels like she gave him a key to her house, which is totally cool.

He steps into an empty kitchen. "Rachel?" he calls. The ceiling fan is swirling softly, but the kitchen is cool and empty. He closes the door quietly. She's probably in her room. As he climbs the stairs, he smiles a little. Picture after picture of Rachel line the stairway wall, as if part of a shrine to the most beloved member of the family. There are photos of her as a baby and then a toddler and then a little girl, and just at the top are all the pictures of her from high school.

He pauses when he sees the newest one: he and Rachel at Regionals, hugging on stage. He remembers that moment, remembers how sure he had been that they would win. He still can't believe they didn't. Still, it's a pretty awesome picture. And it's totally cool that the Mr. Berrys finally like him enough to put his picture up in the Wall of Rachel.

He climbs the last step onto the second landing and starts to call her name again, only to pause. She's definitely in her bedroom, he can tell, but it's not her weird yoga music he hears. He frowns and walks softly towards her room. The door rests slightly ajar, and . . . and his eyes go wide when he peaks into the room and sees her.

She's sprawled across the bed in her little blue dress, she's clutching her favourite teddy bear, and she's crying. She's, like, _sobbing_. Her whole tiny body shakes, and he can see her knuckles are white where they grip the pink fur of her teddy. He doesn't know what to do. He's seen Rachel cry before, but never like _this_.

She looks so messed up, and what kind of shitty boyfriend is he that his girlfriend is crying alone in her room? She should, like, be able to count on him when she's upset like this. And what's she upset about? What's happened?

"Rachel?" he says.

She glances over at him and then looks away quickly as she sits up and starts to wipe furiously at her eyes. "Finn," she says, nearly choking on hiccoughs. "What are you doing here?" She won't face him. "I was just — I —"

"What's the matter?" he asks, stepping daringly into the room. "Did something happen?"

"No! No, I was just watching — I was watching _The Way We Were_, and you know how that movie always reduces me to tears." She finally looks at him and manages a wide smile. It doesn't look right, though. Her eyes are still red and wet and she still looks really screwed up.

He should probably just take her word for it, though. He doesn't know how to handle this stuff. But, like, he doesn't want her to lie to him. She's all he's got left now.

"Rachel," he says slowly, sitting beside her on the bed. "Is this about Sunshine?"

"No," she says immediately, "why would I be upset about Sunshine? I mean, it is upsetting, of course, and I'm sincerely sorry for my role in strengthening Vocal Adrenaline and betraying New Directions, but I'm really fine. I — would you like to watch a movie or something? Or homework! That's right, I was supposed to help you with your Spanish homework, wasn't I?"

Yeah, something's totally wrong.

She starts to stand, but he grabs her hand. "Wait," he says, "let's talk." He tugs her back to the bed. "I'm your boyfriend, Rachel. You're supposed to tell me stuff." He rubs at her wrist. He wants to be a good boyfriend. And she's been the best girlfriend to him. "Girlfriends tell their boyfriends stuff, right?"

Her face softens. "Right," she says quietly.

"So . . . tell me what's going on."

Her bottom lip starts to tremble. She glances away from him. "I . . . I thought I had friends, Finn." The words are barely more than a whisper.

But he hears them. And he frowns. "You do have friends."

She starts to shake her head, and her shoulders shudder. "No, I don't. Nobody likes me."

"I like you," he says uneasily. He's not good at this stuff.

She looks over at him. "I don't know why," she whispers. "I'm a horrible person." The emotion builds up in her face. "But I just — after Regionals I thought we were all a family, you know? And then this summer, Puck invited me to play flashlight tag when we all played, and Kurt and Mercedes and Tina took me shopping with them, and I even went to the movies with Quinn and Mercedes that one time, remember? And — and I thought I was part of the group!"

"You _are_ part of the group," Finn insists.

"They only like my voice," she says, and she looks down at her lap. "And if they could replace that, they would. If they could replace _me_, they would. Once upon a time I would have been okay with the idea that I was most valued for my voice, because I do have a stunning voice. But I . . . I want to be liked for more than that, Finn." She sniffs, rubbing once more at her eyes.

Her voice grows even softer. "I thought I finally was, and I didn't want anything to change. I didn't want to lose that, and I just made it all worse." She avoids his gaze yet again.

"Rachel," he says, his frown growing. "Did you send Sunshine to that crackhouse 'cause you didn't want her to take all your solos or . . . 'cause you didn't want her to take all your friends?"

"Does it make a difference?" she murmurs.

"Yeah," he says, trying to catch her gaze. "It makes a big difference."

Slowly, she looks at him. "Is it so bad to want — to want to be liked?"

"No," he tells her. "I want to be liked, too. I think everybody does." He can't believe this. It kinda makes him angry. How can any of those people, especially people like Kurt and Tina and Mercedes, who have been pushed down and treated shitty before, make Rachel feel like this?

"Look, Rach, you do have friends. And maybe they're pissed 'cause they really wanted to win and now it's gonna be harder, but friends forgive each other, so they'll forgive you. And Sunshine could never replace you . . . especially not for me."

She look at him, and he returns her gaze earnestly. "You're kinda my best friend, you know," he admits sheepishly. She reaches for him, then, and he wraps his arms around her as she buries her face in his neck. He hates that she ever thinks stuff like this. He hates that she's afraid she doesn't have friends and people won't like her if she can't sing. Doesn't she know how awesome she is?

Doesn't she know that she's everything to him?

"I love you," he whispers, and he kisses her hair — it smells fruity today. He likes that. He likes everything about her.

Her arms tighten around him. "I love you, too," she murmurs.

His eyes pop open. She's never said that before, even though he waited all summer. He starts to smile, and he pulls back from her. "Yeah?" he says.

She nods shyly, and then she starts to smile, too, and it's a genuine smile this time. She leans up and kisses him sweetly. "You're my best friend, too," she says. "And I do love you." She presses another soft kiss to his lips.

"Cool," he says.

He might not be popular anymore, he might have gotten himself kicked off the football team and he might be a total loser, and she might have pissed off all their friends, she might have cost them the best chance they have at beating Vocal Adrenaline, but they still have each other.

They can still count on each other.

vii.

She steps off her elliptical, smiling as she sees she has a new text from Finn.

She loves that he greets her every morning when he wakes up. Her mind flitters to the weekend — they spent it all together. And she smiles at the very thought of their talk after school on Friday. He really is the most wonderful boyfriend, so sweet and so considerate and so much more perceptive than people realise.

She glances at the clock. Her timing is impeccable, as always: she has exactly an hour to make banana bread for him, like she planned. He deserves a treat, and he always loves the goodies she makes him. (He doesn't even realise that all of them are vegan!)

_Morning Rach. What should I wear?_

She grins at the text and glances at her outfit for the day, laid out on her chair.

_I will be wearing a blue-striped dress. How about your blue polo? xo Rachel_

She heads to the shower, but she hears the phone buzz a response moments later.

_Cool. See you soon_.

She clutches the cell phone to her chest, unable not to smile at the empty room.

**tbc**

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a/n: the rest of the second season is soon to follow :) I also have a fluffy future!fic in the works as well as a reconciliation fic. I just got my tonsils out on Tuesday, so I have plenty of time to sit around and write!


	2. Chapter 2: BritneyBrittany

_a/n_: So this chapter spends a lot of time examining what exactly Finn and Rachel are thinking, but I couldn't help myself. I sat down to watch the episode and write out an outline, and the more I watched the more I found that I really wanted to explain their motives, so . . . here's my best go at that. Hopefully it isn't a complete snorefest, and I promise the later sections are more legitimate "missing scenes" rather than trips inside Rachel's and Finn's heads.

Also-there's some locker room talk that gets _really_ bad, and I apologise if it offends anyone.

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**:: 2.02 - Britney/Brittany ::**

i.

She accidentally brushes the volume dial and the car radio blasts some stupid top forty hit.

Finn doesn't care.

'Cause it's been frickin' _ages_ since he and Rachel made out — like, _really_ made out, and it would take a tornado _and_ a hurricane, and maybe a fire or something, too, to get him to stop.

He licks her lips a little and, _score_, her mouth opens under his. Her hands curl into his shirt and she lets him pull her a little closer, his hand slipping under her skirt to grip her thigh — her skin's _so_ soft. His hand starts to climb up, even as she nips at his tongue and takes it into her mouth, sucking on it in this way that makes his insides pop and twist and twirl, and his fingers brush the edge of her panties, and _holy shit_ maybe this is it and —

Someone taps on the window.

Rachel jumps away from him, banging her knee on the steering wheel, and Finn turns to glare hazy, foggy death at the culprit, at the fucking idiot who just ruined his day, at — at _Puck_, who grins lecherously and makes kissy faces as he walks off again. Puck is totally gonna die. Like, a really _painful_ death. Finn was _that_ close to some butt action.

"Oh, really," Rachel says, exasperated. "Noah can be so juvenile sometimes." She runs a hand through her hair and then settles back in her seat. "I suppose we should head in, though. The bell will ring for homeroom in less than ten minutes, and we really ought to have gone in earlier. It's important to arrive promptly." She grabs her backpack and opens the door of his truck.

"Yeah," Finn says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he reaches back and grabs his own backpack. He was gonna try to catch some sleep in English, but now he's totally gonna plan Puck's death instead. There'll be, like, chainsaws involved.

This day is gonna be all downhill from here on, he just knows it.

He hates Wednesdays.

There's no Glee, and he doesn't have second, forth, or sixth period, so he doesn't get to see Rachel at _all_. Well, he'll see her at lunch, but that's always been the best part of his day anyway. He takes her hand as they head into the school, and he pretends not to see Azimio and Karofsky watching nearby when she leans up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss goodbye.

He starts to open his locker. Puck walks by. Finn gives him the finger, and then glances around to make sure Rachel has already turned the corner and doesn't see that. He's in the clear. Seriously, though, Puck's an ass.

Still, he and Rachel are bound to reach second base soon, right? Like, if they almost made it this morning, maybe this afternoon he can go over to her house and she'll _finally_ let him touch her boobs. He knows she's not, like, against that stuff religiously or anything, 'cause he still remembers that speech she gave in the celibacy club over a year ago — how could he forget that?

Maybe he should say something to her.

He shrugs off his letterman jacket.

No, he can't say something. It'd be, like, hugely awkward and probably just awful, and what if she thinks that he's pressuring her or something? He never wants to be that guy, 'cause that guy's a jerk. Plus, what if it scares Rachel away or she thinks that he isn't as mature or something dumb like that, and he has to go even _longer_ without any second base action?

He sighs and wonders what the cafeteria's serving for lunch. He hopes it's chicken nuggets.

He puts his jacket in his locker — and a moment later someone slams him backward and grabs the jacket away. It's Azimio and Karofsky, probably the two people Finn hates most. They should never have even made it onto the football team mid-season last fall. As they tear his jacket, he wants to tear them; he wants to punch them both in the face and shove them to the ground and just — _God_, he's not a violent person or anything, but he _hates_ them.

What the hell is their problem, anyway?

Fine.

_Fine._

He takes a swing. He misses, but he doesn't give a damn; he'll keep swinging until he punches their faces in, and — "Sorry to interrupt!" Artie says, rolling in front of Finn. Azimio and Karofsky back off, and that's probably good, 'cause he doesn't need to get suspended or something for fighting. And his hand is, like, on _fire_.

But then Artie looks up and smiles at Finn, and Finn kind of can't really deal with Artie right now, because this is all sort of Artie's fault. Okay, so that's a totally bad thing to say. Artie just wanted Tina back, and Finn knows all about losing your girl to some other guy and wanting to do _anything_ to get her back, but — "I'll see you around," Finn says, slamming his locker shut.

Artie nods sadly as Finn walks off. He manages to get a seat in the back row of his English class, and he slumps in the chair, his hand still throbbing. He used to rule this school, and as only a sophomore, too. He was pretty much the coolest dude around. And, yeah, sure, he gave some of that up when he joined Glee, but he was still decently cool.

Quinn's pregnancy took away a lot more of that, though, and dating Rachel hasn't helped in any way, and now that he's off the football team 'cause he's _the Glee guy_, all cool points he has left are totally down the toilet.

And he wants to be cool, okay? He _likes_ being cool. People treat you better. They say hi in the hallway and high five you in the parking lot, and they don't slushie you or call you a homo or mess with you at all. People want to be your friend. People look up to you. He wants that. He _really _wants that.

Is that really so bad?

It's not like he wishes he still threw people in dumpsters or something.

Like, it's not that he'd quit Glee or trade Rachel for somebody more popular or anything — of _course_ he wouldn't. But how can he be a leader in Glee and the boyfriend Rachel expects him to be if he's a frickin' nobody for the rest of his life?

He feels good about himself when he's cool, and Rachel always says that's important. He should feel good about himself. He _should_. He's not gonna feel bad about wanting to feel good and wanting to be cool to feel good . . . if that even makes any sense. He frowns and shifts in his seat. He glances at the clock. _Damn_. It's only been six minutes.

See, if he's cool, then people respect him and look up to him and it makes him more confident. 'Cause, honestly, he's not actually that confident with himself. He's actually sort of maybe actually a lot self-concious, which is totally the definition of _not_ cool. But it's the truth. If he can be the star of the football team, though, then he can be cool, and maybe, like, inversely he'll be confident.

He thinks that what inversely means, anyway.

(Rachel has all these SAT flashcards, and she's like an SAT study slave-driver, and it's actually kinda working. Seriously. Somebody, quick, ask him what ameliorate means. He needs to do something to _ameliorate_ his coolness situation. Let's go, SATs. Bring it.)

He needs to be confident. Rachel's confident. She's so confident it pours out of her. That must be the problem. That must be why she doesn't want to move past making out — her boyfriend's a big coward who doesn't feel comfortable in his own skin. Why would she want somebody like that touching her skin?

He loses his train of thought for a second, 'cause he thinks of Rachel naked, but . . . he's never gonna get to see her naked for real if he doesn't get his shit together. Jesse was confident, too, and Rachel gave it up to him. Finn's sore hand tightens into a fist at the thought. He needs to be confident. That's it. And to be confident, he needs to be cool.

He _needs_ to be cool.

He needs to get back on the team. _Soon_.

ii.

She can't believe he did that.

He lets Santana insult her — Rachel doesn't even_ understand _the cheerleader's reference — and then he laughs and tells her it's the truth. How can he have done that? She always thought he liked the way she dressed. The tears well again and she wipes her eyes, taking a slow breath to calm herself down.

She smiles at herself in her bedroom mirror.

Studies show that people who smile more are happier — the very facial movement can produce more confidence and happiness within a person. Her smile seems off today, though.

She can't believe he did that.

_How_ can he have done that? _How_?

Okay, maybe she shouldn't have said what she said. It obviously upset him, and she really should have known it would. He's been so down lately, though, ever since the new coach kicked him off the football team, and she likes that she can always cheer him up, that he's clearly come to count on her to cheer him up. She likes being that one good thing in her life.

Is that really so bad?

Yes, it probably is. She sighs. It's probably insanely selfish, isn't it?

Of course, it's not as if she would wish ill upon Finn or hope that he suffers in any way or for any reason. But how can Rachel possibly be enough for him if he's the most popular boy in school, if he's the star quarterback and has two dozen Cheerios vying for his attention?

She is a _good_ girlfriend. She bakes him goodies, and she tries to show interest in his interests. She makes sure to compliment him several times a day so that he can know how attractive and smart and talented he really is. She helps him study for classes and for the SATs, too. She works to impress his mother and even to have as good a relationship with Kurt as possible in case Burt and Carole ever become serious to the point of marriage.

She _loves_ him. How can she possibly be a better girlfriend?

She's not sexy, though. She knows it. She's always been comfortable in her appearance — well, comfortable enough, and she's never felt bad in her clothing. Actually, her clothing generally makes her feel _more_ comfortable in her own skin. The fact remains, however, that she isn't sexy. Her attempts in the past have led Finn to declare she looks like a sad clown hooker.

But that same day, that very same day she wore that ridiculous outfit and completely humiliated herself in front of him, he said he liked the way she usually dressed. Didn't he mean it?

She tries another smile. Studies also show that guys find it more attractive when girls smile.

But if she isn't sexy, and he wants someone who is, someone like Santana, then her only appeal to him lies in her ability to be someone he can turn to when all else fails. If he isn't cool, then he has the chance to realise how wonderful she is and there's no way to try to tempt him and tell him otherwise. Is she really so heartless, then, to enjoy the turn of events that have knocked him down slightly on the high school totem pole on which she resides at the very bottom?

She sighs.

Her mind flickers to her fantasy at the dentist's office that afternoon.

She had starred in her very own music video, and she had certainly been sexy. One day she will be in her very own music video. She stares at her reflection. The idea starts to form. She smiles again, and the familiar dazzle that she's perfected lights up her face. _There_. One day she _will_ be in her very own music video, but she doesn't have to wait for that one future day to be sexy.

She can be sexy tomorrow, if she so chooses.

She'll show Finn. He wants her to be sexy?

Fine.

_Fine._

She narrows her eyes and whirls around to face her wardrobe. She finds a white, button-down blouse quickly, and grey knee socks, too. She isn't so sure about the shoes, but it turns out she has an old pair from middle school that will work very well. She picks one of her shorter skirts, and then all she needs is . . . _ah, yes_. Her aunt, who always buys Rachel these sorts of gifts, gave her a lacy red bra two years ago.

She's never worn it before.

But it will make it's debut tomorrow.

She smiles at herself in the mirror, and her reflection _shines_.

The next morning, when she skips into the kitchen, Dad chokes on his coffee and spits it out all over the table. "Good morning!" she sings. No one says anything for a moment.

"Good morning," Daddy says slowly. He pauses. "This is certainly a different look for you, pumpkin."

"Stars have to be comfortable in all looks," she replies matter-of-factly. Daddy nods and smiles, satisfied, and Dad stays silent despite the disapproving edge in his eyes as he looks at her. She disregards his gaze; she's already positive that this will be an absolutely wonderful day.

When Daddy pulls the car up to the curb at school, however, she feels anxiety spring to life inside her. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, after all. She's never managed to be sexy a day in life. Can a drug-induced fantasy at the dentist's office really change that? _Really_?

But Daddy drives off, and there isn't any way for Rachel to change her mind now. She straightens her back and starts towards the school. Someone whistles. Someone else exclaims, "Damn girl!" More and more eyes turn to her, and she starts to smile. This is the attention she has always deserved and always sought to no avail whatsoever.

She walks into McKinley and catches a Cheerio looking at her with wide, shocked eyes. Rachel's smile grows larger and she adds something of a strut to her step. Yes, that's right, she, Rachel Barbra Berry, future Broadway star, is as sexy as they come.

"Rachel?"

"Hello Noah," she greets, sending him a winning smile.

Her smile only widens when she passes him by and hears him mutter "Motherfucker" under his breath. His language is deplorable, yes, but she can't help but appreciate his appreciation.

"Hey! Take my hoody — you look cold!"

She smiles, because he really can be so sweet, and then her smile changes. "Don't you like my new look?" she asks, perhaps somewhat smugly. He tries to talk her out of it, he tries to point out all the attention, but she doesn't mind the attention. She rather enjoys it, in fact. (In all honesty, however, she does not appreciate the sexist comments from Azimio. He really is a pig, that boy.)

But maybe she can be a little more popular now.

And this _is_ what he wanted, isn't it?

iii.

And he thought things couldn't get worse.

They're worse.

He storms down the hallway and shoves his way angrily into the bathroom, slamming his fist into the door the moment it closes. (It hurts like a bitch — he really needs to stop doing that.)

He can't believe she came to school dressed like that. It's like she walked out of one of his fantasies. In those, though, she comes to his house dressed like that, and then they have lots and lots and lots of sex in a hundred different positions. This is so _not_ that. And now other guys are gonna have fantasies like that about her, which is just . . . not allowed.

It doesn't help that he's hard now, despite everything, 'cause she had been wearing —

Why did he ever say that line about her clothing? He should have defended her, like she wanted. He likes her clothing. It's so . . . her. It proves she doesn't care about what anyone thinks, and he's always liked that about her. He's always _loved_ that about her.

Is she gonna start dressing like this all the time?

Oh, God.

Is she gonna become a Cheerio? She can be one. She's got a great body — the whole school knows now — and she can definitely dance and everything, probably better than most of those girls. What if Ms. Sylvester sees her in that outfit and —?

Rachel the Cheerio is so messed up he can't even think about it. Like, it would make her cool, but — it'd be like she'd sold out. She's supposed to be better than that, better than Cheerios and being cool and, yeah, and him. She's supposed to be better than him.

She is better than him. She's smarter, and she's more talented, and she doesn't let anybody talk down to her. What if she becomes cool 'cause some senior wants to date her and she leaves him? What if she doesn't become cool but some senior still wants to date her and she leaves him? What if _anything_ happens that means she leaves him?

She can't leave him.

She's, like, his best friend.

He spends all his free time with her.

They do homework together, and she's learning to play Call of Duty and he watches _Dancing with the Stars_ with her. Her dads taught him how to play Candy Poker and he comes over for their Berry family games nights now, and she comes over to his house to watch OSU games with him, and . . . and there's no part of his life that she isn't a part of and. . . .

_Chill, Finn_.

She's not gonna leave him. She _just_ told him she loved him. She's only making a point — that she can be sexy. He already knew that, but . . . but he was an ass, so she thought she had to prove it. And she has. She really, _really_ has.

He's not a bad guy. It's not wrong for him to hate that guys are drooling over her in that outfit. It's not wrong for him to hate that guys are _objectifying _her. She's the one who explained that whole concept to him. Does she even want creeps like Jacob Ben Israel panting after her?

He's seen the way that guy looks at her. This is only gonna fuel that. Finn should totally, like, talk to Israel and tell him he better back the fuck off. She can't call him out on that, can she?

Maybe she'll come over after school and they'll talk. He'll make her see reason, and he'll tell her that he really likes her old clothing. Like . . . like that sweater with the two giraffes — that's cute. He's pretty sure it's supposed to be a mother and a baby giraffe or something. He'll tell her that's cute, and she should wear that tomorrow, 'cause he really likes it. And they'll kiss, and she'll still have on that outfit, and. . . .

He glances down.

_Shit_.

He can't go to class likes this.

The door pushes open suddenly. "— I mean, _God_, yes, it'd be totally awesome to get with that, but come on, dude, she's totally out of your league! She's a junior, for starters, and she's dating the quarterback —"

"No, he's not the quarterback anymore! He got kicked off and —"

The freshmen freeze when they see Finn. He grinds his teeth to keep from losing it, and he glares at both as he shoves his way past them. He's gonna talk to Rachel, and he's gonna get back on the team, and everything will go back to normal.

iv.

Rachel Berry does not leave school before the day is finished. She does not miss classes. She does not _skip_ classes.

Today, however, she _has_ to leave McKinley early. She has to get away from all of it. She has to get out of this _ridiculous_ outfit. She calls her dad and demands he pick her up to take her home because she feels sick. He promises to leave work right away, and she stands outside the school, waiting miserably.

It was all such a stupid, stupid experiment! Finn was upset, which she initially wanted, sure, as she meant to prove a point, but . . . but she proved how sexy she was and what did it do? Finn made it back onto the football team, and then Santana — _Santana_, of all the horrible people! — said he suddenly seemed more attractive.

And he looked at Rachel and he smirked and . . . and he's left her for Santana before.

_Don't think like that, Rachel_.

He won't leave her again. He won't. He loves her, doesn't he? He's chosen to be with her. And he made that choice long before she came to school dressed like Britney Spears. Besides, this outfit makes her feel so uncomfortable, as if she's on display or attempting to seduce the masses. It's ludicrous. She isn't this girl. The only person she wants to see her like this is Finn.

She crosses her arms tightly over her chest. Her daddy should be here any minute.

What if she had worn this only for him?

What if she had gone over to his house after school and she had — her mind twirls with a thousand different ideas, and she takes a slow breath, only to feel her eyes burn with the sudden overpowering, overwhelming need to cry so bad it makes her head hurt. Who is she kidding? She can't be _sexy_.

Because sexy girls aren't terrified to be intimate with their boyfriends.

And she is.

She loves him so much that sometimes it feels as if she'll burst with the feeling. He's her best friend, her confidant, her everything, and when he touches her it does things to her head and to her heart and to her body, and it's so different than when she was with Puck and even than when she was with Jesse. They never made her feel so wound up. They never made her _want_ to. . . .

One time, after a heavy make-out session, Finn left her house and Rachel — she — she started to — to — to _touch _herself and . . . but it had all seemed so silly and she had taken a shower and pushed it from her mind. If he knew, she can only imagine what he would think. He would probably be excited. He would probably want to touch her.

She knows he wants to touch her, even now.

He wants to touch her and she wants him to touch her. She does. And she wants to touch him. She wants to tear off his shirt and she wants him to tear off hers and she wants to lie down on her bed with him and — but what if he's disappointed? What if —?

She's always felt confident with herself sexually, and she's never been hindered by the sorts of idiocracy like abstinence that Quinn, to no avail, even personally, promote. Yet the thought of going all the way with Finn, of even going_ part_ of the way, terrifies Rachel, and she doesn't know why. Well, she has an idea, but she doesn't want to examine that.

She doesn't even want to tell the family therapist.

Because Finn _does_ love her, and that's that, okay?

Her dad's volvo pulls up.

She shakes the thoughts from her head and slips into the car quietly. She needs to go home. She needs to change. And then she needs to talk to Finn. She has to explain that she was in the wrong. She shouldn't have tried to make such a point, at least not so publicly, and she'll tell him that she doesn't want him to leave her, and she was scared . . .

. . . and she'll ask him not to play football.

It seems selfish — it probably _is_ selfish — but she's never claimed to be a selfless person. And it's the only way any of this will work. It's the only way they'll work while under all the pressures of high school. She'll wear her own wardrobe, however much her fellow students might disapprove, and he'll quit football.

They can be nobodys together.

And they'll worry about the rest — about intimacy and physical milestones in their relationship and her own unexamined fears — later.

v.

She's not really like that, he knows.

She's not really so completely selfish. She's already done so much for him, so much that's never said or acknowledged by either of them and never even known by anyone else. He remembers all the weeks he spent with her last year. He remembers when Quinn was pregnant and he thought he was the father and he knew he shouldn't find himself lounging across the floor of Rachel's living room while she explained chemistry to him _quite_ so often.

It would have hurt Quinn if she had ever known, and it probably hurt Rachel. After all, he never explained to her _why_ he liked to spend so much time just, like, _with_ her, you know, in the same room or something. Like, how did she feel after he would come over to her house to watch the old Star Wars movies and she would make popcorn and he would spend half the film pretending he wasn't aware of the way his hand could brush her thigh if he moved just a _little_ to the left?

She had to have thought he was stringing her along. And he was.

But, _jeez_, it's like she tied the string around her own wrist. She's _always_ been there for him, even when he didn't deserve it, even when he stupidly thought he didn't want her there. She was there during those months, and she was there when the babygate drama came to a head, and she was there when he was jerk in the weeks after.

That's not selfish.

That's the opposite.

Even if nobody else knows, Finn does. He knows she isn't like that. She just acts like that sometimes, because . . . because why? She doesn't know how not to?

Like, does she really expect him to quit football for her? How can that idea have even crossed her mind when she knows how much he loves it? She has to have known it'd be selfish. She's too smart not to know. So why'd she ask it?

"Hey, Hudson!"

For the first time in, like, half an hour, Finn actually hears Coach Bieste. "Kid, you going in are you just gonna sit there like a jackrabbit with three ears and no tail?" She stares at him with this look on her face, and he realises that the rest of the team is headed for the locker room.

He stands quickly and smiles, hoping he doesn't look too stupid or awkward or anything like that. "Ah, yeah, sorry, Coach. I was just, like, lost in thought."

He's worried she'll be pissed that he didn't listen to her pep talk or whatever, but she only smiles and nods. "Go on, then," she says, and he nods quickly and hurries towards the locker room. He's not gonna mess this up. He's made it back on to the team by some miracle, and even if he's not the quarterback, he'll take what he can get.

He goes into the locker room and weaves his way towards his old locker. Puck nods hello and then turns towards the shower as Finn pulls open his locker and starts to tug off his shirt. He's got to be optimistic about all this. Who knows — maybe he'll be able to make quarterback again.

And as for Rachel and her whole ultimatum . . . well, he'll figure it out. He can talk to his mom about it. She can give him the girl perspective or whatever. It'll probably be awkward, but sacrifices have to be made sometimes, you know?

"She's asking for it," somebody says, and Finn starts to tune out the talk, 'cause he hates listening to the guys go on about this stuff. Like, sure, he'll participate a little, maybe brag some when it's just Puck and Mike, but he doesn't want to go around saying stuff about girls that's . . . stuff that's so, just, _bad_. It's uncool, yeah, but he'll just tune them out.

"—oh, you know she gets it, too. If she doesn't, I'll give it to her. I bet a tight little pussy like that'll feel _real_ good!" There's laughter. Mike looks at Finn and rolls his eyes. Finn nods and waves goodbye as Mike leaves. "And, hell, if she wants to put that Glee club mouth of hers to _good_ use for once —"

Oh. Fuck. _No_.

Finn's only half dressed, but he slams his locker shut and whirls around.

Azimio sees and starts to grin, all wide and slow. "You got a problem?" he asks.

"Yeah," Finn says. "Yeah, I got a problem."

"What's the matter?" Karofsky asks. "Can't we . . . _appreciate_ the school freak?"

"You shut your fucking mouth," Finn says, stepping towards them angrily.

"Ah, it's all good, man," Azimio says. "We just want you to know that we finally get it. We get why you shuffle around holding hands with that little wacko. The girl looks good in her little skirt. Tell me — she look that good when you're fucking her ass?'

Finn lunges towards him, but Sam, of all people, holds him back. "He's not worth it," Sam mutters.

"Ooh, look at that — he really is a homo. Did you get kicked off the team just to get your boyfriend on?" Karofsky asks, grinning as Sam steps back, uncomfortable.

"Look, dude," Sam begins.

"Hell, Hudson, I guess you probably have no idea what that little white ass looks like," Azimio says, laughing. "It'll be even easier than I thought. She'll probably _beg_ me to fuck her like a little slut —"

Finn springs forward, slamming Azimio into the locker as hard as he can. "Don't talk about my girlfriend like that!" he snarls. He's gonna kill him. He's gonna fucking _kill_ him.

"Okay, whoa, the Bieste is _not_ okay with this!"

Coach Bieste stands there, glaring at them all, and it's Puck who grabs Finn's shoulder and tugs. Finn backs off, his breath still heavy, and he glares at Azimio, who glares back. "What the hell is going on?" Coach Bieste demands.

"Nothing," Karofsky volunteers quickly.

"Yeah," Sam adds, "nothing," and a few others nod and mumble something or other.

"Finn? Azimio?" She looks back and forth between them.

Finn lets his fists relax. "Nothing, Coach. We were just messing around."

"That's right," Azimio says. "Just messing around." Bieste starts to turn away, apparently satisfied, and it's like Azimio _wants_ Finn to kill him. He lowers his voice and adds, smirking, "It's not my fault Hudson's girl is a fucking _cunt_."

Finn jumps him.

But Puck gets there first, and Finn hears the _crack_ as Puck's fist collides with Azimio's face.

Finn starts to pummel the jackass, and people grab at both Finn and Puck, trying to pull them back. Finn pushes them away, but it's only seconds until it's Coach Bieste who grabs him and drags him off Azimio. She has Finn by the shirt in one hand and Puck by his shirt in the other, and her eyes are on Azimio, who stands slowly.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she says, her voice so low and dark it's scary, "but I don't care. You don't call a lady that. _Ever_. You don't even_ think _it. Do you hear me? All of you?" She glances around the room. Everyone is silent. "I said, do you hear me?"

They all nod and murmur and assure her they do.

"Good," she says. She looks back at Azimio. "Get dressed," she tells him. "And then come with me. We're gonna have a talk with Principal Figgins."

Azimio's eyes go wide. "Coach —"

"You heard me!" she yells. She releases Finn and Puck. "And the rest of you! I don't know how this team was run last year, but things have changed. There's not gonna be any fighting in _my_ locker room, you hear?" She glares until everyone nods. "Get changed and go home. And don't let me see something like this again."

She stalks off, but she stops at the door and stands there, arms over her chest, waiting for Azimio. Finn rubs his hand, which is bound to be broken or fractured or just totally screwed up. "One of these days," Puck says, "there isn't gonna be anybody to stop us, and that boy is gonna get it." His lip curls.

"Yeah," Finn mumbles. He looks at Puck. "Thanks, man," he says softly.

"Don't worry about it. I got your back," Puck says. "Plus, I'm not about to let anybody talk about a girl Jew like that. That shit's not kosher."

Finn slowly opens his locker again. He's still all, like, full of adrenaline and stuff. He wonders if Rachel will call him tonight to talk before bed like she does sometimes. He glances over at Puck. "Hey, don't — don't tell Rachel about any of this. I don't want her know that Azimio and Karofsky talked about her like that."

Puck nods.

By the time Finn gets home, he doesn't want to talk to his mom about all of this, and he _really_ doesn't want to play _Sorry!_ with his mom, Burt, and Kurt. He plays, though, and tries to act happy, and Kurt covers for him when his mom asks how he bruised his hand.

Rachel never calls.

She doesn't call at all that weekend, in fact.

vi.

"Oh!" Quinn claps her hand to her chest, closes her eyes for a moment, and then looks at Rachel as if Rachel's something unpleasant that she's stepped in.

Rachel isn't bothered in the least; she has long since become accustomed to the various expressions of haughty disdain and cruel hatred that Quinn reserves only for her. "Hello Quinn," she greets. She has to be quick about this, as she only has five minutes before first period starts.

"Do you _need_ something?" Quinn asks. "Or did you just want to scare me death by _lying in wait _as I came out of homeroom?"

"I do need something, actually," Rachel tells her. "I need a favour."

Quinn stares at her. "_You_ . . . want . . . _me_ . . . to do you . . . a _favour_?" she asks, saying each word slowly and with so much disbelief that Rachel has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Must Quinn be so dramatic? Honestly.

"That's right. I know you and I have never been good friends, and I am more than willing to admit my part in that. As fellow Glee club members, however, we ought to have, at the very least, a relationship that isn't entirely cold and unfeeling, and I thought we could start today, as I very much need your help, and yours alone. It concerns — it concerns Finn."

It's quiet. "Go on," Quinn says slowly, her face appraising.

"I know that Finn loves me," Rachel says, "but sometimes I fear that his inability to ignore the asinine opinions of so many students at this school will —" She pauses. She takes a shaky breath. This isn't as easy as she thought it would be. If she's going to do this, she might as well go for broke. "Last year, he left me just because Santana wiggled her finger. And I don't want that to happen again. I can't let him break my heart like that again."

She doesn't look at Quinn. She keeps her gaze on the floor.

"And what do you want from me?"

"I had hoped perhaps you might go to Finn and say a few lines I've prepared for you," Rachel says, "in order to give me the proof that I refuse to allow myself to believe, if that makes any sense." Again, it's quiet, and Rachel finally looks up.

Quinn sighs. "I guess I do owe you for not being terrible to me last year, when it would have been so easy. Let me see these _lines_."

Rachel nods quickly and pulls the notecard from her backpack. She hands it over to Quinn. She devised this whole plan over the weekend after her seventeenth failed attempt to call Finn. Her script isn't too much to memorise, and Rachel suspects Quinn can act well. She did keep her pregnancy from Finn a secret for an astounding length of time.

Quinn looks up at Rachel, and she has that guarded gleam in her eye that makes it impossible to know what she's thinking. Rachel hates that gleam.

"Look, Rachel," Quinn says, "why would Finn be with you if he just wanted to be cool?"

"Why _wouldn't_ he be with you if he could be cool?"

"Maybe because you claim he loves you?" Quinn suggests.

"Right," Rachel says. The first period bell rings. She glances up, surprised. She hadn't even realised . . . but it doesn't matter. She focuses on Quinn. "I know he does, but I just . . . I —"

"Oh, seriously, don't — don't _cry_," Quinn's guarded expression gives way to annoyance and distinct discomfort instantly. "You don't even have a good excuse," she mutters. "I'll do it, okay? I'll catch him by his locker before third period."

Rachel beams at her. "Thank you," she says. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," Quinn says. "Really, don't." She starts to walk off.

"Quinn, I —"

"Okay, we have already talked _way_ too much today," Quinn says. "And I'm late for first. I'm going to help you. And after this, we're even. I don't have to feel bad for pornographic bathroom stick figures anymore. Okay? Okay." She stalks off, and Rachel watches her walk away with excitement.

And then the dread drops inside her like a dead weight.

Because if Quinn does deliver her lines and Finn _takes_ the bait, then Rachel will lose him.

But that won't happen. Right?

vii.

He can't believe this is his life.

He can't believe that there's this girl, and she's _so_ incredible, and she can sing _so_ good, and she's standing there, singing to _him_, pouring her heart out to _him_, in love with _him. _He knows it's totally unmanly, but he kind of wants to cry, and he tries to keep himself in check.

She starts to cry, though, and he knows that all the rest doesn't matter.

Azimio and Karosfsky and all the rest of those jerks, football and Britney Spears and _everything_, it all doesn't matter, not when there's her and there's him, when there's Rachel and there's Finn and together they're Rachel and Finn. He thinks maybe they're gonna get married, which is totally random and completely freaky and she looks at him as she belts out the final words and . . .

. . . and, yeah, he can't believe this is his life.

She finishes.

The whole room is quiet.

She takes a hesitant step forward.

"Damn, boy, _kiss_ her!"

Mercedes grins, Tina and Mike laugh, and all eyes turn to Finn. But he really doesn't care about any of them right now. Rachel bites her lip shyly, and he stands even as she suddenly races to him.

She nearly tackles him.

He lifts her up off the ground and clutches her, 'cause they've been fighting for too long as it is and that song — he loves her so much. Artie whoops and Brittany exclaims, "It's like a movie!" and Rachel laughs a little as she turns her face into his neck and presses a kiss there. She pulls back, then, and he knows she doesn't like this kind of PDA, but he can't help it.

He kisses her, a real kiss, a long, slow, open-mouthed one, and somebody wolf-whistles, which makes Rachel giggle and break away. Finn doesn't care. He'll kiss her again as soon as he has the chance. "Okay, okay, that's enough," Mr. Schue says, a small smile on his face. "That was very good, Rachel. I think you really proved the kind of potential in this music. Now, can anyone tell me . . . ?" Finn sits and Rachel quickly claims the seat beside him, her fingers intertwining with his.

The rest of Glee passes by slowly, and Mr. Schue talks about the '90s grunge movement, but that's about all Finn knows. He pays more attention to Rachel, to her head on his shoulder and her leg pressed to his and their clasped hands. They don't talk, though, until Glee is over.

"That was really good," he tells her. "I mean, like, you sang really good."

He sounds like such an idiot. How can he show her . . . how can he put any of it into words?

"Thank you," she says, and she beams up at him, swinging his hand a little playfully as they cross the parking lot. "And I meant everything I said. I'm sorry I ever tried to make you —"

"It's cool," he assures quickly. She definitely doesn't need to apologise anymore. "And I'm sorry, too. For, you know, for not being a good boyfriend lately. The whole football thing totally messed with me."

"It's okay," she says, and they both inadvertently stop walking. She smiles a little and leans up. He dips down to kiss her once more, and her hands push down on his shoulders as if she wants to hoist herself up. He smiles a little into her kiss moments before she nips his bottom lip gently and then runs her tongue smoothly over her bite.

His hands travel from her arms to her waist, and he picks her up. Her legs wrap around his waist, which is one of the most awesome things in the history of planet, hands down, and angles her head as she kisses him.

"Okay, seriously? Once was enough."

Rachel pulls her lips from his and he sighs as she glares at Santana. "Go away," she says. And she kisses Finn again. So, yeah, she's totally the greatest girlfriend _ever._ But she draws back a few seconds later, and he sets her gently back down.

"Did you drive?"

"Daddy dropped me off."

"Want a ride?"

She smiles. "I was kind of counting on it."

He grins and takes her hand.

**tbc**

**

* * *

**

_a/n:_ disappointing? y/n?**  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Grilled Cheesus

a/n: I made a timeline for events in Grilled Cheesus in order to write this, and the missing scenes as well as the internal monologues I included are somewhat influenced by how I decided events must have happened, so I just wanted to mention this to you. Others might disagree, but after rewatching Grilled Cheesus, this order of events makes the most sense to me. I know it might seem unrealistic that Burt is out of commission for an entire week, but judging by outfits and the timing of football games and church, etc., this just works out best as far as I can tell. Okay. Carry on.

* * *

**:: 2.03 - Grilled Cheesus ::**

i.

He hates Monday mornings. A lot. But when his alarm goes off and he wakes up with a groan only to remember that completely and totally _awesome_ win the Friday night before, he grins up at the ceiling. School is gonna be so good today — wins like that don't happen much at McKinley, and all the football players are gonna get praise heaped on them. He might not be the quarterback anymore, but he's still on the team, and he still helped make that win happen.

Thank you, Grilled Cheesus.

He pushes his sheets back and makes a beeline for the bathroom. He has twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast before he has to leave to pick up Rachel for school. But he can't really focus on anything.

What should he ask for now?

He thinks immediately of at least, like, thirty things that would make totally great wishes — or prayers, or whatever. But what if he doesn't get an unlimited number of wishes? He has to pick really carefully, 'cause he can't waste something like this. So what does he want _most_ . . . ?

He can't decide. He even thinks about it so much he bangs into the side of the bathroom door. (It hurts like a motherfucker, for the record.)

Rachel sends a text just as Finn pulls on his polo. _This is your wake up text! Please wear that blue long-sleeved shirt I like so much. It'll go very well with my outfit. I'll see you soon!_

He grins. She doesn't realise that he actually got up when his alarm went off today. Of course, he's not gonna tell her about Grilled Cheesus, 'cause she'll totally think it's crazy. But he _is_ gonna pay tribute to the big guy. He's gotta — he promised Cheesus he would, and if he expects to have any more of his prayers answered, he better stick to his promises and stuff.

He yanks off his polo and starts to rifle through his clothing for his blue shirt. He finds it sorta near the closet. It smells okay. He can wear it.

He thinks about a good song to suggest. _Tears in Heaven_ is about Eric Clapton's son, not really about Jesus, so that wouldn't much work, but there's gotta be something that'll totally do JC justice.

His grabs toast from his mom, kisses her cheek, and then heads out to his truck. He flips through the stations on the radio in hopes that something really good and inspiring will come on. Heck, maybe Jesus will help him out and make the radio play the song that he wants Finn to sing in Glee.

By the time Finn pulls into Rachel's driveway, though, he still doesn't have any good ideas.

Whatever. He can still pay JC a tribute. He'll get all of Glee behind it. He's pretty sure Quinn'll be all over the plan. And Rachel's religious, too, but not in a crazy way like Quinn. And, yeah, okay, Jesus isn't really Rachel's main man and stuff, 'cause she's a Jew and she loves, like, Moses or somebody, but she probably won't mind.

He doesn't even have to climb out of the truck before she bounds out of her house, pulling her backpack behind her and beaming at him. "You're right on time!" she exclaims as she climbs up into the truck and leans over to kiss his cheek.

"Yeah," he says, smiling as he backs the truck up.

"How was your weekend?" she asks.

"Pretty good," he says, nodding. "How was yours?"

"Amazing!" She can't seem to talk fast enough, then, as she describes her Sunday spent in Columbus with her dads, and the production of _Wicked_ they went to see. He smiles and nods and tries to listen. "I can't wait until the day I can astound audiences with my performance as Elphaba," she says, a wistful sigh in her voice.

He wonders randomly if maybe he should wish that Rachel becomes really famous like she wants, and that she ends up in _Wicked_ and _Funny Girl_ and _Evita_ and all those other musicals she really wants to be in. Can he wish for stuff that won't come true for a few more years? Or pray, or whatever? But he doesn't need to wish for that, does he? Because Rachel _will_ be famous, so he shouldn't waste a wish on that.

Because he probably only gets three wishes, right? Like a genie? That makes sense.

Rachel leans forward to change the radio station, and she asks him to tell her about his Sunday. He starts to answer, but when she leans forward like that he gets this awesome view of her cleavage, and he gets really distracted. And then he realises his eyes should be on the road, and he tries to focus on driving. "It was good," he finally says. "Sunday was good."

"What did you do?"

"I don't know. Played video games and stuff." He shrugs. He glances at her again, and at her cleavage, and then he looks quickly back at the road before she can catch him. "I like your dress," he says, because he does, and she looks pretty, and she should know.

"Thank you!" He can nearly hear her smile, even as she goes on happily. "Oh! Did I tell you about dinner? Daddy went to college with this wonderful woman who owns a restaurant right down the street from the theatre, so we went to dinner there, of course, and. . . ." She goes on and on, and at one point she tries to impersonate the waiter at the restaurant, and she sounds completely hilarious.

They finally pull into the school parking lot, and she takes his hand as they head in. He nods at a couple of his teammates, and he starts to grin as more and more people hail him and clap him on the back and tell him he did awesome at the game on Friday. This is totally cool.

"You're a star," Rachel tells him. "You're _the_ star." She smiles.

He glances down at her, and a little of his high fades. "I'm not the quarterback," he says. And the real star is the quarterback. Everybody knows that. He tries not to let his disappointment show.

"You should be," she replies, "and soon enough Couch Bieste will recognise your talent." She pauses, smiling softly. "You know I'm still proud of you either way."

She always knows what to say to make him feel better. He glances down at her again, and he can't help that his gaze falls from her face to her cleavage once more. That really is an awesome dress.

And, see, there are lots of things that suck about being really tall and clumsy and stuff, especially when your girlfriend is tiny and you basically have to pick her up to make-out with her. But there are good things, too, like how if he walks with her and he looks down at her, he almost always has this really good shot of her cleavage. He isn't a pervert or anything, though.

She's his girlfriend — he's totally _allowed_ to look. It's pretty much his job.

Rachel doesn't have much when it comes to boobs, but that's okay, 'cause he's always been a butt guy, honestly, and Rachel has an awesome butt — pretty much the best one in the school. He still likes boobs, though, and he likes to look at hers, and he really wishes she would let him touch them.

They reach her locker. She tilts her face up for a kiss, and then she tells him she'll see him at lunch, and he smiles at her and starts towards his own locker. He bumps fists with a linebacker on the team, and then he glances back at Rachel, checking her hair in her locker mirror.

He thinks of Grilled Cheesus, and what he wants for his next wish.

ii.

How? When? _Why_?

She doesn't understand. Finn has never been religious before. He seems to prefer to worship food, or football, or music. And she understands that. But this? _Really_? Where has this random love for Jesus come from? Where? And why? Does Finn even know anything about Jesus?

And he doesn't seem to find his newfound love of Jesus in any way strange.

How can he not understand that this revelation _shocks_ her? What about their future together? What about their _children_? She knows that many families manage fine with parents of two different religions, but doesn't that often leave the children torn in an abyss, unsure of which religion is truly theirs? Does Finn want their children to be lost in an abyss?

She glances over at Finn, tapping his thumb against the wheel to the beat of the stupid pop song that plays softly over the radio. He has his eyes on the road, because he really is such a focused driver, and she likes that.

But isn't he even a little worried about their children? She looks down at her lap and forces herself to stay clam. She's probably simply overreacting.

But — dear God, this is about Quinn, isn't it?

Quinn came onto him, and he turned her down, but she put the idea in his head. And now his blonde ex-girlfriend has inspired him to find Jesus, and he wants to marry her and have perfect blonde children who love Jesus. Rachel _definitely _saw the look that passed between Finn and Quinn when Finn said that he knew others loved Jesus, too.

"Are you okay, baby?" Finn asks.

Started, she only stares him.

"You seem really quiet and stuff," he says. "Did somebody say something or . . . or something?" His frown deepens. "Nobody slushied you, right?"

"No, no, I would have told you," she assures. "But I. . . ."

His eyes dart to her for a second and then refocus on the road. "But?" he encourages.

She doesn't know how to put her thoughts into words. Well, she does, but what if he admits that he does love Quinn? No. _No_. She shouldn't worry about this. But where has his new love of Jesus Christ come from? And what if he really feels sincerely that Jesus is his saviour, and she offends him? She needs to plan this out better.

"But I feel I have a minor case of ennui," she says.

"Oh. Okay," he says, nodding his head. "What's that again?"

"It's a feeling, a sort of indescribable one," she says. "It's sort of an inexplicable dissatisfaction, I guess. Don't worry. I'm sure the feeling will fade." She offers him a small smile.

He still looks a little confused. "Are you sure?" he finally asks. "Can I do something?" He risks another glance from the road.

Her heart warms a little. "No, really, don't worry," she says, her smile more genuine this time.

He reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing softly. "Maybe you should sing something," he says. "You left your Celine CD in here the other day. Singing always makes you feel better, right?"

She loves this boy, she really does.

He loves her, too. He even called her baby a few minutes ago. He doesn't do that often, but every time he does she feels so special, so loved. She _is_, after all, his baby — his sweetheart, his girl. He loves her, and she loves him, and Quinn isn't part of the equation anymore.

And Rachel _will _have his babies someday, his brunette, Jewish babies, and maybe he doesn't yet realise that she has their future planned, maybe he hasn't even considered their future, but he is only a teenage boy. He lives in the moment, and she can respect that. But she will sit him down, and they will talk. She doesn't want to scare him away with her intensity, but she will respect his new relationship with Jesus, and they will make this work.

She switches over from radio to CD player, and she swirls up the volume.

Finn grins as she starts to sing, and he joins in on backup vocals. Everything will be okay.

She will _make_ it okay.

iii.

How can anybody expect him to sit in class?

Burt is in the _hospital_. That is _not_ okay. And Kurt didn't even tell him. Burt had a heart attack yesterday, and Finn spent the entire night playing video games, and he didn't even find out until his mom finally called him on her drive to the hospital after her overnight shift ended.

Of course, he totally yells at Kurt like a big douche, which doesn't help, but Finn _really_ likes Burt. And they're all like a family, aren't they? 'Cause, sure, he and Kurt have kinda had a rough relationship, but Finn has grown-up, hasn't he? And he and Kurt are cool, right?

It doesn't matter. He knows now.

Now, when he can sit in class while Burt lies in a hospital.

What can Finn do to help?

His third wish! He can use his third wish on Burt! He already used his second one yesterday, right after he got home. He knows maybe he chose, like, a lame wish, and Puck would totally laugh if he knew what Finn had actually chosen to spend his wish on, but Finn _really_ wants to touch her boobs. Is that so bad? He loves her and stuff, and he wants to be closer to her physically.

Plus, they're _boobs_. And they're his. Okay, no, that sounds wrong. They're _hers_, but she's his, so see how that works? That sounds really possessive and stupid, though. But he can't help how he feels. And none of this matters anyway, not right now, not while Burt lies unconscious in the hospital. Burt won't die, right? Shit. What if he dies? What will happen to Kurt?

He can move in with Finn and his mom. He can.

But Burt won't die. He won't. That's stupid. Finn won't even think that. And he _will_ use his third wish to help Burt. As soon as this dumb class ends, he will go home and he will take Grilled Cheesus from the fridge, and he will spend his third wish on Burt. There. That's something he can do, something he _will_ do.

Rachel has dance, so her daddy will pick her up from that; she doesn't need a ride. He tries not to freak out as he drives straight home, focusing on his wish to save Burt. He has to make sure he words everything perfectly.

What if he only had one wish, though? What if he just wasted his wish on some stupid football game? That would suck so hard.

He makes a beeline for the fridge as soon as he arrives home, but he freezes when he sees his mom in the kitchen, her eyes red as she makes some sort of casserole. He hasn't seen her since yesterday morning.

"Mom?" he says hesitantly. She looks really messed up.

She drops her spoon at the sound of his voice, jumping slightly, and then glances over at him.

"Hi sweetie," she greets quietly. "This is for Kurt. I thought he might need . . ." Her bottom lip starts to tremble, and she closes her eyes and tilts her head up, taking a few shuddering breaths, as if to try to calm herself down and keep collected.

The first guy she loved died in a war, and now she might lose the second one from a heart attack.

He crosses the kitchen in a few strides and wraps his arms around her as tightly as he can. "I'm so sorry, Mom," he whispers. She starts to shake, crying, and he only squeezes her tighter, almost lifting her up off the ground. Her hands brush his hair, and she mumbles something to him, but he only closes his eyes and hopes she knows how much he loves her and wants everything to be okay.

He finally pulls back, and she gives him the smallest smile in the world as she wipes her tears. "I'm okay, sweetheart, I'm okay. Everything will be okay. I know you must be worried, and poor Kurt . . . this is so hard on him. Burt is all he has. And us, too. He has us. He does. And everything will be okay."

"Yeah," Finn says, nodding. "Burt, he won't . . . he won't die."

His mom reaches out and cups his face. "No. He definitely won't. I know he won't." She speaks so firmly, and her gaze is unwavering, even with her teary eyes, and he really does believe her. People survive heart attacks all the time, right? Burt is totally tough and stuff, so he'll survive. "This family has so many more years to spend together," his mom goes on. "We'll be okay."

Finn nods, and she wraps him up in another hug, and they stand that way for a long time.

She shoos him out of the kitchen eventually, because she wants to finish the casserole and take the dish to Kurt at the hospital. He offers to go with her. She tells him to do his homework and not to worry, and if Burt is still in the hospital tomorrow night, then Finn can come with her to see him.

"Everything will be okay," she repeats firmly. "Don't you worry."

Rachel calls, like, half an hour later, right after his mom leaves.

"We need to talk," she says. "Can I come over?"

"Um, yeah, sure," he says. She has that voice, the one that means serious business, and he doesn't really know what to think.

"I'll be there soon." She hangs up without another word, and he feels a little freaked. Does _everything_ in his life have to go wrong on the same day? He hopes she isn't really upset about anything, although she did act strangely all day and all yesterday, too.

He starts to pull Grilled Cheesus out of the fridge, only to pause.

Maybe he shouldn't wish for Burt to be healthy again. If his mom is right, then he doesn't need to, and he should save the wish for something else. Like, if somebody gets hit by a car or something. And if Burt doesn't get well soon, then Finn can still use the last wish on him, right? _Right_.

If he even has three wishes, that is. He sighs and goes upstairs to his room to wait for Rachel.

iv.

Her heart starts to beat a little faster.

He might not have ever thought about their future before, might not have made plans the way she has, but he doesn't seem at all frightened by her plans, as if in his head this were all assumed, and he never felt the need to bother with plans, because he simply _knew_ everything would work out.

He wants their children to be Jewish. He wants them to have children.

He even smiles as he talks, like he thinks the idea is totally cool. He uses his sweetest grin, and she knows he really means what he says, because Finn isn't slick like that. He isn't all talk and no walk, isn't someone to lie, and if he tried then she would see through him in an instant.

She can't help but lean forward and kiss him, because this is a big moment, isn't this? They've agreed on their future together. She draws back after a moment, though, and she gazes at him, his breath hot against her lips, and she can taste him on her lips, and all of the sudden she wants more.

He makes her feel a way nobody else ever has before, he makes her spine tingle, makes her stomach tighten, makes her so warm she feels as if her insides literally start to melt. And at this moment she feels all that and more, and she knows he must feel the same way.

"Let's lay down the bed," she whispers.

"Okay," he breathes.

They've reached an emotional milestone in their relationship.

They should reach a physical one, too, shouldn't they? She wants to go slow with him, wants to do their relationship right, wants to assure that they are both completely in love and devoted to one another and _ready_ for a more physical relationship. He has always been more than okay with that, always the perfect gentlemen.

And he deserves to know she appreciates that, and he deserves to know that she appreciates how open he is to their future together. Besides, these kind of emotional moments in their relationship make her feel more ready to welcome physical moments.

And then he kisses her as her head hits the pillow, and thoughts start to give way to feelings, and everything seems perfectly natural as she softly says his name.

He easily agreed to raise their children Jewish, even with his new devotion to Jesus.

She only knows one way to match that gift. It all works perfectly, really.

"I want to give you something in exchange for what you gave me," she murmurs, and she slides his hand up, carefully placing his hand over her breast and then glancing up to see his eyes wide. She smiles and tilts her face up to kiss him again.

He squeezes her breast a little, and her breath catches. She reaches up to cup his face, pressing kisses down his neck as he glances up and mumbles something under his breath. Moments later he dives back into a kiss, and his thumb runs over breast, just brushing her skin and making her shiver. "Only the sides, Finn," she whispers. "And not under my dress."

"Uh-huh," he says, his kisses sloppy. She smiles into his lips again.

They make-out, and they've really only done this a few times. They've made-out a lot, sure, in movie theatres and the car and other places like that, but they've only been able to kiss like _this_, lying out on a couch or a bed, a handful of times, and she knows exactly what she wants.

She wants to feel his weight. It's so amazing, that feeling, and at this moment she _needs_ that, because she _needs_ more of him. She shifts slightly, raising her knees parting her legs slightly, and she lets her hands travel to his shirt collar. She tugs.

"Come here, Finny," she murmurs.

And she has him between her legs in an instant. She drags her tongue slowly over his, and he still has her breast in his hand, squeezing and petting and touching in these ways that make her ache a little, and she nips on his bottom lip slightly. He shifts, his lips traveling down her jaw, and she realises he has himself propped up on one hand. That won't last long.

"Turn over," she instructs, gently pressing his chest. He does, and he nearly rolls off the bed, but she traps him between her legs, saving him as she straddles him, and their kisses go on. His hands travel up and tangle in her hair, only to skim back down. He takes a breast in each hand, and he gasps a little into her mouth, tensing slightly beneath her.

She knows how easily he works himself up, so she kisses the corner of his lip, and then his cheek, and then the hinge of his jaw, before she tugs his earlobe into his ear and gently sucks, giving him a minute or two to calm himself down.

He turns his head and captures her mouth in another kiss pretty quickly, and one of his hands slides around her back and then down towards her behind, only for his hand to hesitate and skate back up to grasp her breast again as his other hand moves down tentatively. She giggles a little into his mouth. Clearly, he needs her help.

She takes one of his hands and presses her breast into his palm, her breath catching again, and then she slides his other hand down to her behind, and she grins into his mouth when he whimpers a little. His kisses grow even sloppier, and she doesn't care at all.

His fingers skim against the lining of her dress, touching the skin at the top of her breast, and she lets out a small moan herself, rocking involuntarily against him, and she can barely think, and she needs to stop. She needs to stop. _Stop, Rachel._

She pulls back. "Okay, okay," she says, sitting up and resting her hands on his chest as she catches her breath. He nods, and his hands make their way to her waist. She smiles at him, and he grins at her, and suddenly she dissolves into giggles before she moves off of him.

She can't really believe how much she enjoyed that.

She's shocked, in fact, because she very nearly gave him permission to go ahead and dip his hand under her dress, and that is too fast, right? Yes. That's much too fast. They have all the time in the world, he and she, and they have no need to rush.

She starts to lie back, and his arm snakes beneath her to serve as the perfect pillow.

"That was awesome," he says, still sounding a little breathless.

She only bites her lip and nods. It's quiet for a moment, and she glances over at him. He looks so pleased, and she pinks slightly as she turns her head and snuggles against him. His arm bends and his hand toys with a little of her hair.

Even as she gazes at him, though, his smile fades a little.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," he says. "'Cause that really was awesome." He smiles quickly, and then his voice goes soft. "I just thought . . . of Burt. In the hospital, you know."

"I'm sorry," she says. "This is really hard for you, isn't it?"

He nods. "I know I resisted at first, but I really like Burt, and I like the idea of having a real family, or whatever. I mean, I kind of already think of him as my step-dad." He pauses, blushing and staring at the ceiling. "That sounds totally stupid, I know —"

"It doesn't sound stupid at all," she says, and she kisses his cheek. "And Burt _will_ be okay."

"That's what my mom says. She says I shouldn't worry."

"You shouldn't," she assures. It's quiet again, the good kind of quiet. But she can't really help herself. "How many children do you think we should have?" she asks casually.

He shrugs a little. "I don't know. Three or four. I like kids."

She fights back a full-fledged grin. "Come on," she says, sitting up and grabbing his hand. "Let's go downstairs. I'll make you a sandwich, and then we can start on our homework."

"Cool," he says, following her out of the bedroom. "Can it be grilled cheese?"

"Of course."

"I really, _really_ love grilled cheese."

v.

His feet pound against the pavement, and he feels himself fall into, like, the rhythm of the run.

He doesn't really know any other way to make himself feel better. He might be out here running circles around the neighbourhood for a while, actually, if only because he needs as much adrenaline and endorphins as possible to make him feel _something_ other than completely _shitty_. It's been exactly a week since he found out that Burt was in the hospital, and it's been a really suck-y week.

Everything was cool for a while, after his mom and Rachel promised him everything would be okay, and he and Rachel had that totally hot make-out that included second base, which was so, _so_ awesome. And Kurt was still pretty messed up, but Finn couldn't really do anything for him, and he couldn't resist making his third wish: to be quarterback again.

And then of course Puck had to go and make him feel totally bad, and Puck was right.

Finn should have prayed for Burt. He _should_ have used his third wish on Burt.

He guilty asked for a fourth one, but he felt like that wouldn't be enough. He needed to do something more. He found Rachel, and he told her that he still felt pretty bad about Burt, was still worried that everything might not be okay. And Rachel totally came to his rescue.

She recruited Mercedes and Quinn because "at least one of us can help," and then she sang this really pretty song in the hospital and outside. She was pretty much the most awesome person ever. She _is_ the most awesome person ever. Some people might think she's crazy, but they don't understand her at all.

They don't understand how amazing she really is.

But Burt didn't wake up, not even after the girls all sang to him and prayed for him. He still hasn't woken up, and Kurt is totally pissed and upset, and Finn doesn't know what to do.

Stuff only got crazier on Friday, when the football game landed Sam on the bench and made Finn quarterback again. The third wish _totally_ worked. All the wishes worked. Finn was _sure_ he had a direct line to God. But he didn't know if he could still help Burt. He really, really wanted to. He heard his mom cry every night down the hall — he still does — and he could barely look at Kurt, and he had to help, especially since he had completely screwed Sam. He needed to help _somebody_.

He freaked out all weekend, and then on Monday he went to talk to Ms. Pillsbury, and she basically told him that he was an idiot, and he had no way to talk with God.

What is he supposed to do now, then?

Burt is still in the hospital, and Finn can't do _anything_ for him.

He runs, and he tries not to be too pissed at himself. He _is_ pissed at himself, though, and this stupid run doesn't change that.

He really has been a selfish jerk all week, wishing for stupid stuff even if his wishes weren't really magical prayers, or whatever. How could he have prayed to a _grilled cheese sandwich_, anyway? Is he really that dumb? He is, isn't he?

He doesn't even know anything about Jesus or religion. But, like, it was nice to have something to count on, and it kinda sucked to lose that. That might seem silly to other people, but he honestly felt — _feels_ — like he lost something big. What else does he have to count on now?

Basically, all he can think of is Rachel, which isn't actually so bad. He _can_ always count on Rachel. She never lets him down, and she always supports him, and she always knows how to make everything better.

Can Rachel be his religion? Or is that too creepy?

But, damn it, none of his stupid problems matter, because Burt is still unconscious in the hospital.

Finn pushes himself to run a little faster, to focus on the exercise and not on Burt.

It doesn't really work.

vi.

She uses her ruler to line up the small, sticky picture corners perfectly on the scrapbook page.

Her daddy is golfing and her dad is gardening, and she has the kitchen to herself. She treated herself to blueberry crisps earlier, and she already practised on the piano and with her voice for two hours this morning, so she has the entire afternoon to work on her scrapbook. Smiling, she fits the picture of her and Finn at the lake into the picture corners. There. _Perfect_.

She can't wait to show Finn how far the scrapbook has come along. She knows the last week and a half has been hard on him, and she really wants to cheer him up. She can't even imagine if one of her dads were in the hospital like Burt. Of course, Burt isn't actually his father, but he might as well be, because there really isn't anyone else. And Rachel knows Burt makes a good father to Kurt.

She wonders what the chances are that Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Hummel will marry. She loves weddings, and Finn always looks so handsome dressed up. It would be amazing. She and Kurt might not always get along well, but if they became as good as family maybe they could manage to try at least a tentative friendship.

Her phone goes off, and she smiles a little when she sees his name on the screen. "Hi Finn."

"Hey! Burt's okay!" The words tumble immediately from his mouth.

"He is?" Rachel asks, smiling and sitting back in her chair.

"Yeah! He woke up this morning! Kurt was there with him. Me and Mom went to the hospital to see him. I'm just outside in the hall right now. I had to call you and let you know."

"I appreciate that," she says. She doesn't bother to correct his grammar. She'll let this one slide. He is, after all, too excited to worry about grammar. "And I'm so glad he's okay," she adds softly. She really is.

"Yeah, me, too," he says, and he sounds so _happy_. "You wanna come see him?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose. He should probably be with family right now."

"You're like family," he says. "Come on. Burt loves you. He says you're spunky."

She giggles. "Okay. I need to change, though! I don't look even close to presentable. But I can be at the hospital in a little over a half hour!" She stands, trapping the cell phone between her shoulder and her ear and starting to clean up all her art supplies.

"You don't need to change," he says. "I'm sure you look great. Just come. I wanna see you!"

She laughs at his enthusiasm. "No, no, I need to change, but I'll be there _very_ soon!"

"Okay, cool." His voice goes soft. "I love you, Rach."

She smiles a little to herself. "I love you, too."

She hangs up, finishes cleaning up her supplies, and heads upstairs to change. She wants to look nice for Burt, and to impress Carole, too, and of course she always needs to look nice for Finn. She can't let him see her with her hair in a messy ponytail and a faded t-shirt that doesn't match her shorts. She isn't pretty enough to look gorgeous even like that. She needs to put on perfume, too. She can never smell too good, after all.

She catches Finn sometimes, with his nose in her hair, smelling her. She really likes that.

She thinks of their last make-out, and she bites her lip a little. She made-out with Puck, and with Jesse, too, but she never let either of them touch her like that. Was she too hasty to let Finn touch her? No. They've been together for months, and he loves her, and he deserved —

— and she _wanted_ him to touch her. She wants him to touch her even _more_.

Is that bad? Is that natural? Is she thinking about this too much? She shouldn't think so much.

She should focus on Burt right now, and his happy recovery.

She blows her dad a kiss, shouting out the good news, as she heads to her car.

She sees Carole first when she arrives at the hospital, and the woman pulls her into a hug. "It's so sweet of you to stop by!" Carole says, kissing the top of her head. Rachel only nods shyly. She really, really likes Carole, and she wants Carole to like her, too. Finn says she does, but Rachel still feels slightly nervous around her, afraid to lose her approval.

Carole will be her mother-in-law someday, after all.

Finn kisses her quickly when he sees her, and then she greets Kurt, who happily hugs her, actually lifting her up off the ground a little, and she doesn't think she has ever seen him so happy in her life. She laughs a little, returns his hug, and then she gives a gentle one to Burt.

"I'm really happy you're okay, Mr. Hummel," she tells him.

"Me, too, kid," he replies. "Me, too."

Carole starts to fuss over him, and Kurt takes a hold of his hand, and Finn only sits in a chair by the bed with this big grin on his face. Rachel goes over and slips into his lap, snuggling against him as Carole starts to talk about a new diet. "I have some wonderful vegan recipes you could try!" Rachel offers. Burt groans, but Carole beams at Rachel.

Finn kisses her cheek.

Everything really did turn out okay.

vii.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He shrugs. "Sure." She doesn't usually ask for permission.

His house is empty, with his mom and Kurt both still at the hospital, and he and Rachel both sit cross-legged on his bed, her with a biography in hand and he with his math homework. Every time he finishes another problem, she leans forward and rewards him with a kiss.

She puts her _Wicked_ bookmark in place and closes her book. "It's a personal question," she warns.

"Um, okay," he says, closing his math textbook to give her his full attention or whatever.

"I can't help but be curious from where your newfound love of Jesus stems," she says. "Why did you suddenly decide to embrace Jesus? I was under the impression you weren't particularly religious. Did something happen?"

He doesn't know what to say, and he kind of just gapes at her.

Because he _can't_ say that he prayed to a sandwich for a week. That would sound so stupid, and Rachel would probably be weirded out, or, worse, demand to know what he prayed for, and then she would probably be pissed. He just _can't_ tell her.

"Um, I — I don't know," he says. "I . . . I don't know. You know, it was just, like, temporary. I'm not really — I'm not religious. I'm not — I don't know."

She frowns a little.

"It was a dream!" he supplies suddenly. "It was a dream." He nods. "A weird dream, actually. I don't remember that much, but there was, like, um a grilled cheese sandwich, I think, and stuff, and so, yeah. I just kinda wanted something to count on, and the dream made it seem like I could count on Jesus, or whatever. But I'm over it. So, yeah."

She leans forward and kisses him sweetly, and he touches her back hesitantly.

"Dreams can be kind of crazy," she murmurs. She pulls back and smiles at him. "Thank you for telling me."

But now he feels bad. He, like, _lied_ to her. "Um, yeah, it was really crazy," he says, trying to think of the right way to, like, just _sneak_ the truth in. "In the dream, actually, the grilled cheese sandwich had a picture of Jesus in it. Like, burned in the bread. It was cool looking. In the dream, I mean."

She nods. "Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Um, I — it was — what do you — what you do even mean? Of course it was a dream."

"Really?" she says, raising her eyebrows at him.

"I . . . okay, fine. But don't laugh! I made this grilled cheese sandwich, and it, like, it had this _perfect_ picture of Jesus in it! So I asked it to help us win the football game, because, you know, why not? And then we _did_! So —"

She starts to laugh.

"Don't . . . don't — okay I know it was stupid!"

But she leans forward and kisses him, still laughing into his lips as he falls back against the pillows and brings her with him. He wraps his arms around her waist. Okay. That wasn't so bad, and now she knows, and he doesn't have to lie to her.

"What else did you wish for?" she asks, biting his bottom lip a little and then running her tongue soothingly over the bite.

"Just random stuff," he says. He runs his hand up and down her back and tries to pull her into a kiss again, and she giggles a little but lets him. She rests her hands on the pillow on either side of his head, and her hair falls down in a curtain around their faces, and her kisses turn slower.

He slowly slides his hands up to her boobs, because he really hopes that wasn't a one-time deal. It can't be. How can he ever make-out with her again and not want to touch her boobs, now that he knows how completely awesome that is? He doesn't want to upset her, though, or, like, make her feel pressured.

"Rachel," he breathes, "can I —?" He brushes his fingers against the underside of her boobs.

She pants a little into his lips, and then she draws back enough to look at him. She bites her lip. He knows she's thinking, like, heavy stuff, but he doesn't know what. "I'm not ready for more," she finally says slowly. He knows. He starts to say so, but she covers his mouth with her hand. "And I won't be for a while. It isn't a matter of principle. It's simply how I personally feel."

He nods.

"But I think it's safe to say that my sweet, loving boyfriend —" she pauses, smiling this totally sexy smile that she probably doesn't even know is really, really hot, "— is more than welcome to touch my boobs whenever he likes. With concern for propriety, of course."

He starts to nod again, eyes wide. Is she for real? This is awesome. This is pretty much the best thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life. And then she kisses him again, holding herself up on her knees and grabbing both his hands, sliding them down. He's confused for a moment, because her boobs are in the other direction, and he thought she just said he _could_ touch them. But she slips his hands _under_ her shirt, and she skates them up over the skin of her stomach, and —

_Holy shit_.

Her boobs, her soft, warm, _naked_ boobs, are totally in his hands.

She kisses him, sinking into him and breathing heavily into his lips. She digs her fingers into his hair as he brushes his thumbs across her boobs and feels the weight and tries not to come in his pants _immediately_. Her eyes flicker open for a moment, and he stares up at her, their noses brushing. Her gaze is darker, slightly different, and he goes a little harder when he realises what that probably means. She smiles sweetly, nuzzling her nose against his.

And he knows that Rachel totally _is_ his religion.

**tbc**

* * *

a/n: this one was another with both inner monologues as well as more legit missing scenes. I think I liked the last chapter better, but I've made you wait long enough for this one! I hope it was worth the wait. You won't have to wait as long for Duets, I promise!

Also, I don't know if I am going to go through all of the first ten episodes. I might only do through "Furt." We'll see. But I definitely didn't abandon this story, and there are several more chapters to come! Thanks for your patience thus far :)


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